Three of Hearts
by Foul Fountain of Flies
Summary: Shuuhei falls in love with Soi Fon and finds an intimidating rival in Byakuya. While in other issues, Renji scuffles to make Byakuya his, alone. What he doesn't know is, he's gradually breaking Ichigo's heart. On going.
1. Chapter 1

**Three of Hearts**

Disclaimer: All characters and similarities with the original series are on loan from Tite Kubo. Don't sue me.

Summary: 9th Division has to be broken up and its members distributed. Shuuhei, aspiring captain, is assigned to the 2nd Division and finds himself in continuous tension with Soi Fon, his new captain. ShuuheiXSoi FonXByakuya. IchigoXRenjiX Byakuya and YachiruXRenji on the side.

Acknowledgement: Major thanks to Pollux who made this fic possible. Your ideas still rule the world.

* * *

**Chapter I: ****Worst Case Scenario**

Basically, he couldn't believe what he was hearing. Or rather, he refused to.

The bastard had to use shitty, thinly veiled euphemisms that went along the lines of, "this is not the end of the Ninth Division."

Not the end, exactly; it's in fact far worse than that.

"It's a new phase for each and every member and hence a wonderful opportunity to…"

What? Show off? Who the hell ever mentioned anything about wanting to break off from the team to show off?

The thing is, they're going to break up the squad in miserable pieces/individuals/helpless rascals _to favor certain circumstances_ which he wouldn't even bother to find out. Let them do away with it for now and pay later. Let them be glad at the present and be sorry-assed later. But when is _later_? How long exactly or nearly approximately is _later_? The fact is, later shouldn't take more than two months; seven weeks, six days, twenty-three hours and fifty-nine seconds is the maximum. The fact is, their captain just went poof, because of which, everything had to be ruined. His life, for instance.

Maybe he should've blurted out in a less proud way the words:

"Fuck you, man."

Maybe he should've realized before his wheel shifted out of control that the person was someone of authority, remarkably more powerful than him in all aspects, all things fucking considered. Maybe he should've grasped it with more certainty, less temper. Maybe.

"So you're telling me that you're gonna distribute my members to every division and that I'm going to be captained by-"

That's when he stopped in his tracks. He had no idea what adjectival shit to bestow upon that girl-woman. "Midget" would fit her better but cheap insults were simply beneath him, even in this state.

"By the Second Division Captain, who also is the Commander of Onmitsukidou, Soi Fon." The name rolled from Commander Yamamoto's lips easily, as though he'd been hanging on to pronounce the name with grace for some time now.

Shuuhei nearly gasped, turning the words over his head rather reluctantly. _In other words, the law-abiding, stickler for rules, bordering on boring captain girl…yeah, her name was Soi Fon_, or at least the last time Shuuhei remembered, she went by that name.

"Please be informed that you are not assigned to your new teams randomly; a carefully selected panel was consulted on this and as all decisions met, they have to be operative right away. You, Hisagi Shuuhei…"

He became lost in thought, total space case. But he still managed to catch a few significant snatches like, he wouldn't retain his position as vice captain, much less_ be_ captain. In short, _I'm being demoted._ He walked away from the square; if they called him back, he obviously didn't hear it. He went on walking away and away, directionless like his life. And if there ever was a point in time when he was most vulnerable to giving up, it had to be _now_.

* * *

He didn't know how or when or even why, but here he was now standing tall among his new division mates. If anyone bothered to look past his blank eyes, they'd see a broken man and deeper still, his cracked dreams.

The morning meeting was way past commencing time but the captain was still nowhere to be seen. Punctuality was never really popular among division captains but Shuuhei could use a little non-irritating, non-patience-destroying twenty minutes worth of waiting time. He could be instead out finishing the coffee he left halfway finished to answer the early call for meeting.

Soi Fon arrived thirty-one minutes after assembly time. For someone whose severe observance of rules was particularly epic and who was invariably hostile to the idea of being opposed, she was being thick. And as if things couldn't get any sloppier, the closely five-footer captain didn't even bother to appear apologetic for running half an hour late for a meeting she called for herself. She immediately started her speech with evident grumpiness in her tone of voice when, Shuuhei thought, she could give them the favor of, at least, not acting as though they were the ones who caused her sullen behavior.

It turned out that the captain was not much of the smiling type. In fact, her display of smugness in the meeting happened to be her usual demeanor. Needless to even mention, this all the more downed Shuuhei who already thought he could use a little break from this rather impertinent nightmare.

"Okay, I'm going to skip the preliminaries. As I'm sure you're all very aware, the higher order has decided to split up the Ninth Division. In consequence, the members have been distributed and, may I add, distributed sensibly. Assigned to our team is Hisagi Shuuhei, formerly of the Ninth Division. I will expect that you, each and every one of the original members of the Second Division, will assist Mr. Hisagi in every way you can and in turn, Mr. Hisagi, I will expect you to adjust quickly. It's not like everyone has all the time they need nowadays." Soi Fon almost hissed the words, which didn't show half a sign of warm reception.

At length, the meeting was over, punctuated only by a number of questions, courtesy of her transparent members, which hardly had anything to do with Shuuhei's abrupt transfer. It was made clear, however, that his lost status as a vice captain would not be recovered any time soon.

It took a little while and lots of second thoughts for him to decide to approach the captain. At that time, he was not wholly conscious of the thoughts he was nursing, nor of the steps that he was about to take. Soi Fon was behind the partition where certain important files were allegedly stored. She was busily rummaging through papers, half crouched beside a stoop drawer when Shuuhei came in sight.

He cleared his throat, loud enough to attract her attention. She cast him a dark look and stretched up, her full height not even reaching past his chest. It was always a wonder why someone this tiny could command such obedience over her subjugates.

"I need a word…with you." Shuuhei said.

"Regarding?"

"Regarding me," Shuuhei hesitated. _Regarding the immediate situation I caught myself in before I even had time to accept it. _

Seeing that Soi Fon's expression barely shifted, or else she was too uninterested in the topic that she was on the verge of going back to the files, Shuuhei went on.

"I understand your loyalty to your team mates and I understand that you know little about me or about what I'm capable of." He took a deep breath. "But I was once a respectable vice captain of the Ninth Division and when the captain had gone, he might as well have left me in charge. And I can safely say right now that I didn't do bad, as a substitute, that is. "

Soi Fon's look was unreadable; it was either she knew where this was going or she didn't care. At any rate, no emotion boiled to the surface, except maybe that of mild disgust of Shuuhei's one-track mind. As she spoke, her heedless words all the more crystallized the indifference contained in her face,

"And do you have a dazzling proposal to make to make me submit to your will, whatever it may be?" Soi Fon replied.

If he wasn't so used to unpleasant surprises, he would've found this utterly outlandish.

"In all seriousness, captain," Shuuhei declared, with obvious emphasis on 'captain'. "I'm not in a position to strike any bargain with you. I'm saying, perhaps it's too much to ask, but I can't think of a way to put it—I'm saying that, the least you could do is to retain my position. To make me vice captain, still; I think it's only fair."

"The least _I_ can do? Why do you have to sound like you're doing us any favor? You're the one who had no one go to; we took you in when we could've refused. The least _you _could do is to thank me." Her voice grew from irritated to hurt-pride anger now.

Shuuhei remained silent, careful not to look down lest she got a clearer view of his confused face. He could've said that his additional presence to the squad could mean a lot, hands down and everything, most especially that the present vice captain of the Second Division wasn't especially a talent, unlike him who could work magic for the squad if he'd desire to. It was at the tip of his tongue when he realized, a second short of being too late, that there was no room for impudence at the present time, that arguing so could only produce a larger shock and cause him to sink further from where he was.

He took a deep breath for the millionth time that day. "I have reason to believe that if you're going to use my abilities to the team's advantage, you'd have no regrets. If you'd only give me a chance, I swear…" Saying this, Shuuhei knew that he was grasping at his last chance to become a captain, one of these days.

A bitter smile crossed Soi Fon's face as her eyes narrowed, revealing some slight features of a feline. "If I'm right in thinking, you're just trying to usurp my vice captain because you think he's inadequate."

Shuuhei looked at her square in the face. "By default, if that's the word you prefer, yes; I am more adequate than he is. But I'd rather term myself overqualified for being merely a member of the Second Division." Shuuhei said; down deeper, his insides were doing cartwheels. He couldn't remember the last time he waxed this insolent.

Soi Fon didn't speak. Her eyes were sizing Shuuhei up, as if to weigh what limited options she had. When their eyes linked, she held her gaze directly at his, refusing to speak.

"I believe it is in your power to choose your officers." Shuuhei offered, now less certain of himself.

"It is. But it's not a matter of whether or not I have the power to change things or to grant what you want; it's a matter of decisions, mine in particular."

"And?"

"Ceteris paribus, I will go on doing what I see fit." She said sternly. "And you should, too, because you can rest assured that nothing will change from hereon out."

"Captain, I don't want this to be the reason behind our disagreement--"

"Well then, that makes two of us--"

"I am simply asking you to give me a chance. The chance I need."

"And to strip my vice captain of his position? Is that your idea of impartiality? I hate to be the person to say this to you, but you sure need to be cut down to size."

That shut Shuuhei up. He knew he just gave the last ditch, fought against the odds the best he could, and lost. It hadn't hitherto occurred to him for a moment to think about what the second division's vice captain would think or do had things gone his way. He simply was thinking of himself, only, with conscience unbridled, something he had been accusing his new captain of all the while. On the other end, Soi Fon stared at him with sadistic satisfaction, wordless but lucid, visibly victorious in her sly attempt to humiliate him. In his much reduced pride, he knew that there was no use, or hope.

"I know your heart's breaking, bleeding all over the place. I know what's going on inside that thick skull of yours and it has to be said, I don't like every bit of it. You have lots of issues going on there. Next time you decide to waste my time, don't give me any of that anymore; I have more important things to do than pick up the pieces of a broken man."

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

**Three of Hearts**

Disclaimer: Blah blah blah, it would be pointless to sue me for using these characters because apparently, I'm too broke for words. You know the basic rule, I don't own and I only borrow.

* * *

**Chapter II**: **Renewal**

She didn't just deliberately fail to hear him out; to add insult to injury, she asked him to finish the paper work for her, _since he had nothing better to do but rant_.

He didn't know how he plunged into this pit in the first place, let alone to obey her without so much as a word of protest. He remembered her back turned to his as she disappeared to the doorway, perhaps to attend to something of greater significance. As if on impulse, he slowly reached for the file, bounced his eyes up and down the paper in the meager hope of finishing the report, i.e., of doing what he was told. All around him, he could easily mark the perspicacity with which everything was arranged; the alphabeticized hard-bound copies of the reports, the tasteless decorative pieces of furniture, the whitewashed walls, the dustless shelves. This, of course, was as intimidating and new to him as his current plight was. And as all new things to him went, he didn't bother to greet them with warm welcome.

He thought of so many things within that swift passage of time, there in the most unlikely place of his new captain's office. He thought of his friends, the old members of the now dissolved Ninth Division and with this thought came a stabbing pain of recognition. In a way, he promised them a bright career, not to be dissipated like this, marginalized somewhere, against their will and without prior knowledge. They didn't deserve this. It wasn't meant to be this way. But then, what choice did they leave him with? At this point, death indeed seemed to be more attractive than the options fate had provided him.

Morning was already past its rising stage when he woke up. Far away, or else his ears were malfunctioning, he could hear a soft rustle. He lifted his head up, slightly, slowly, as if still unwilling to thoroughly detach himself from the sleeping world. Through blurred eyes he could detect a movement, particularly that of someone who was taking pains not to disturb him in his sleep. He then scratched his eyes for a clearer view. That's when he learned that he was somewhere he wasn't supposed to be.

"Had your beauty sleep?"

It was her. She was donning her combat wardrobe sans the white overgrown vest and the long sleeves. Under the light that sifted through the partly opened window, she looked halfway calm, self-possessed as she was last night. Or was it last night? How long exactly had he been splat on the captain's desk? He looked at her for answers but she already wheeled around to approach the filing cabinet where she dropped a folder or two in the first drawer from the top. Her slender back was revealing, spotless, unclothed. It took a mighty effort for Shuuhei not to so steadily gaze at it.

"I didn't come back here to check on you last night. I thought you'd have the sense to take a break." She stopped and turned around again to face him. Her face typically betrayed no emotion.

"I haven't finished it yet." Shuuhei said.

"It's been taken care of. You can go back to your flat to rest. I'd have you called when I need you." She said. It was undoubtedly an order, reeking of urgency to be accomplished.

Without another word, Shuuhei left. Out in the open, he indulged himself, if only for a while, on fresh air. So much time had passed then and who knew if the seconds stretched to eternity, if the distance between him and the dream he so delicately nourished hadn't grown galactically distant. For all the world knew, he'd be pretty much dead once he was reassigned as vice captain. Life had shown so much cruelty lately that nothing seemed impossible anymore, that it seemed there was no longer a limit to how mean it could get.

* * *

At this time of the day, he was prone to remember, count and even rationalize the things he was willing to do for him. At times, his head would ache, not knowing when and how to stop thinking about him. At times, he was in no condition or mood to do these things for him. At times, it just seemed wrong. But wrong or right, in mood or not, he would do these self-same things for him, faithfully, inwardly fawningly. Because this was none other what his reason dictated, and no kind of validation was ever needed to further prove how right his reasons were.

He produced the small note from his side pocket, lifting it between his fingers against the white sunlight, from which angle the paper would appear more transparent, thus revealing in part the inky script on it. It always said the same thoughtful thing in essence, varying only slightly in terms of phrasing. A more open-minded, less principled person would've easily called it a love letter while others would prefer to view it as something less romantic, merely camaraderie-based affectation.

To Renji, however, friendly or no, this letter was offensive, no less, no more. And if, by some freak of fate, he managed to pluck up the courage to finally give his captain a piece of his mind, he'd tell him flat out to stop composing such heinous, humiliating cheesiness.

As the case stood though, Renji, by nature, was submissive to Kuchiki Byakuya, and whatever pleased the latter, he would do, without an ounce of hesitation.

He was midway to the Second Division's Headquarters when he spotted Hisagi Shuuhei, who was apparently in the gradual process of walking out of the building. Renji hurried to him.

"Shuuhei-sempai!"

"Eh? Renji? What are you doing here so early?"

"Some shit delivery." Renji frowned. "Hey, listen; no offense, but I hate your new captain."

"Tell me about it." Shuuhei mumbled disinterestedly. He wondered who on earth would be able to like someone like Soi Fon, guts and all.

"Yeah, well, it's great to hear we're on the same boat. What have you got against her anyway? I mean, never mind that. Thing is, Byakuya's asking me to hand this note over to her. He does that almost every morning and I'm this close to getting sick."

Shuuhei raised his eyebrows. He doubted if Byakuya was ever capable of making Renji sick, or if Renji would ever be sick of him. At any rate, Renji continued,

"I can now say with authority that this is going beyond what's right." Renji said knowingly.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"The letters, Shuuhei! You'd think something _fishy_ is really going on. And what's more, IF captain's NOT hiding anything, he would've asked me or anyone on the team to censor the letters. But no! He doesn't do any of that sort; he just goes on writing personal shit like this." Renji growled in a voice that was becoming uproarious and scandalous.

"What personal shit?" At this point, Renji had managed to tickle Shuuhei's dormant curiosity.

"You'll see," Renji casually raised the folded note against the sunlight. Slowly becoming visible were the prints and from where Shuuhei stood, he could make up some words…words of what must've been called affection. It was Renji who broke Shuuhei from the spell, "Don't try to decipher them now; I happen to know them all by heart. It's either my captain is asking your captain to take care or asking her to really take care or asking her to really, really take care because he's worried or something. It's always the same old tired crap, trust me."

"Well, that's friendly." Shuuhei said quietly. It never crossed him that Byakuya would be willing to appear so affectionate to another person.

"A little too friendly, don't you think?!" Renji almost yelled. Neither of them noticed that he was shaking the note in all directions, causing it to be crumpled and somewhat lose its scent. "What's the point, I would like to know, of constantly writing letters like this if my captain, and your captain for that matter, are just simply, plainly friends? What's this 'take care of yourself; I wouldn't know what to do if something happens to you shit'? which, by the way, is only slightly better than 'I love you'? Shuuhei, it's just sick!"

"What is?" Shuuhei managed to utter amidst the clamor Renji was making. He was ready to let the question go when,

"Them!" Renji wrung his hair. To say that he was upset would've been a criminal understatement. "Know what, Hisagi-sempai? I hate your bitch!"

"You know what, Abarai? She's not my bitch; she's probably somebody else's bitch and for all we know, she's your captain's bitch. So please stop blithering!"

Renji froze. It took a few soundless moments before the words registered. He never really prepared himself for this kind of reality; to him, it was just one of those things you don't anticipate, because doing so is a form of acknowledgement. The acknowledgement of defeat, though from what, it was hard to say.

"Renji, mate, you know, this is the part when you tell me what your problem is with them…together."

For a split second, something red and menacing flashed on Renji's eyes. It didn't take too long either before he erupted and blared, "I'm gonna step on that midget! It's really pretty easy, you see, all I have to do is lift my foot an inch from the ground and slam! Midget flattened, mission accomplished! I'm gonna Bankai that bitch! You wanna watch, Hisagi? I'll give you front row tickets!"

Seeing that his friend had gone over and beyond normal hysterics, Shuuhei shook him. Or tried to. "Renji, get a grip, will you? Easy on the jealousy."

Unexpectedly, Renji was transported back to normal mode. "What. The. Fuck. Are. You. Saying? Did you just say the J word? Who's jealous of that midget? I'm six-foot-two."

"If you're not jealous, this must be just a sad case of psychosis, neh?" Shuuhei said sarcastically. "And what's with this name-calling? I'd've thought you were more mature than that. Plus, it's not like your best friend Rukia is taller than my captain. And I'm quite sure you're pretty fond of Rukia." Shuuhei muttered. He had no idea why he was standing in defense of Soi Fon now.

"Well, I can't vouch for that; Rukia's a midget too. It's not like I can change that. There's a fine line between cute midgets and bitchy midgets, as you oughta know." Renji stated.

Shuuhei sighed exasperatedly, point taken, yet never bothering to find out why Renji was so resolved to call Soi Fon such names. At least in my case, Shuuhei thought, I have valid reasons. "Okay, this is going nowhere. Cut the crap about your midget talk. And besides, there's no law against captains dating. And knowing Soi Fon and Byakuya, well, it isn't likely that they'd break any rules. Hence, whatever they're doing should be legitimate, or at least no written law has been released to forbid it."

"Well, then, I'm going to find that covenant that says captains shouldn't date!" Renji said, accompanied by a bout of freaky shivers. If Renji hadn't yet been assigned to some psycho asylum, Shuuhei would so like to find out why.

"You're not going to find any. Seriously." Shuuhei said. He could've said that captains dated before and ended up marrying each other but realized that his safety was under threat of Renji's now glowing anger and frustration. In an effort to quell the other, he said, "Listen, I'll take the letter to Soi Fon---"

"Argh!" Renji was staring open-mouthed at the letter, or what was left of it. It was now severely crumpled as if it was chewed and spat out by some sharp-toothed carnivore. The fonts were all blotted out and the only evidence of their being there before was this flat black puddle of indefinite shape. "It's…"

"Give me that." Shuuhei snatched the paper away from Renji. "For now I'll do you the kindness of delivering this…this ruined note to her. Be glad that I don't bother very much with lowlife crimes like reading other people's private letters. God, sometimes you just have no idea how thin the ice you're skating on is."

Renji mouthed out some words in panic. In the end, all he managed was to stutter, "But, but—"

"Renji, just consider yourself lucky I'm not the ratting type. Now leave the rest to me, go back to your captain and tell him you're done." With that, Shuuhei went back to the building.

As he hurtled his way back to the captain's chamber he tried to compose some sound excuses as to why the letter came to be in this pathetic state. If Renji was even halfway reliable or even honest, Shuuhei should truly be worried now; because if it was true that Byakuya communicated with Soi Fon through letters on a regular basis, if it was unfortunately true that something indeed was going on between the two captains, then, it would be a big deal for either camp to find out that the letters were being tampered with. And who knows what Soi Fon's anger could be capable of?

Shuuhei reached the door of Soi Fon's office, his hesitation increasingly taking over and not sliding down a bit. Twisting the doorknob, he was instantly confronted by the reality that came in the form of Soi Fon's rather redoubtable expression, or merely lack thereof. What it boiled down to is that, he and Renji were done for.

"Captain,"

"Yes, Hisagi?"

"There's been a problem, uhm, some petty interruption along the way," he halted to take a peek at Soi Fon's reaction; there was only a little change to it, perhaps toward irritation or some other. "A letter from Kuchiki Byakuya arrived this morning and—"

"From Byakuya-kun? Where is it?" Soi Fon's voice was suddenly light as though something sweet just pulled her out of a dark, deep reverie. She was instinctively outstretching her hand in much the same manner a little child would receive a long-awaited present.

Shuuhei wordlessly passed the inappropriately pleated note to her. He was expecting her to burst out any second now, to question the vandalized appearance of the note in maximum volume. But by the way she looked at that particular instant, it seemed clear that her mind was far away from noticing how very crumpled and ruined it was. Her lips were breaking into an almost unseen, subconscious smile but her eyes, her eyes reflected all the joy from within. Shuuhei looked at her in bafflement, surprise, and perhaps in positive amazement. He knew now that what he feared in her, all along, is that how beautiful she really was, and if he only could break through the fog of her mystery, by which he was now mesmerized, he would.

In another time and world, he could've fallen madly in love with her.


	3. Chapter 3

**Three of Hearts **

Disclaimer:If it isn't obvious enough, I don't own Bleach's characters and nor do I benefit from the series' royalty.

* * *

**Chapter III: Intuition Defied **

Somewhere, in a place least likely to be violated, two tall men, or perhaps they were just boys, were raising a ruckus. The morning was otherwise silent, un-peopled and promised the brightest, bluest sky it had seen in years.

"I'm saying, he's your captain. It's your job to obey him, not to be obsessed with him." Ichigo voiced his objection for the seventy-sixth time that day.

"Yeah, yeah, stop preaching. I'm going to go to captain and tell him."

"I'd rather not witness this fiasco." Ichigo said. He knew he and Renji had better managed this better or else, the fire they were playing with would eat them, alive.

"Ichigo, we're in this together. I know you'd just think that this is pathetic--"

"It kinda is."

"No, it's not. God, why do I ever persist in your company?"

"Because you need me. You're always telling me we're good pals."

"I thought that was the point. What I fail to see is why you're discouraging me any chance you got."

"Because, I told you; what you're doing is pathetic, desperate, last resort-ish. If I could avoid it, I wouldn't say these things and perhaps you'd realize that I don't mean any harm. But boy, do you leave me no choice."

"Maybe you don't, but that's the way you make me feel."

"I'm sorry, Renji. Don't flare up now."

"Apologies don't count for much and anything unless you start doing things that will mean you're really sorry."

"I am sorry _for_ you, is what I wanted to say. Did it ever occur to you that they're serious about this? And please, I remember telling you just a second ago not to flare up."

"Who isn't serious about this? I damn sure am."

"Seems more like a joke to you—I mean, _on_ you."

"Ichigo, I only take shit from my friends and since you just made it clear that we're not friends, you can shut up now."

"Fine then, I'm not coming with you."

"Fine."

"You're not serious about going in there, are you?"

"'Course I am." Renji said without a trace of reluctance. There were very few things he hadn't done and fewer that he wouldn't do.

"Jesus Christ, Renji!" Ichigo exclaimed. "Seriously, I was with you all the way until you went showing off your lunatic side like that. I mean, I have no qualms supporting you and all but if you're gonna take it this far, you can forget about me."

"I just have."

Renji deftly scurried away from Ichigo. He was frantic and in the act of turning the doorknob of their division's head quarters' main entrance when Ichigo blocked his passage.

"You can't do this. You're gonna ruin your life."

"As if it's not ruined enough! Will you get out of my way? And remind me again that I'm not talking to you."

"Renji, will you listen to what you're saying?"

"I am listening to what I'm saying! Byakuya needs to be informed! He has to know—"

"Has to know what?" A voice that didn't belong to both Renji and Ichigo rose forth from behind them. At the portal, a tall figure in black and white stood, hair wind-swept and face grave, with dignity to match his appearance for sure. "Forgive my intrusion, but I just couldn't help overhearing both of you all the way from the third floor. You'd think someone was attacking you."

Ichigo recovered his voice first, "We were just leaving. Come now, Renji."

"We're not leaving. Captain, I was just saying I needed to tell you something…something of considerable substance."

"In regard to what?" Guessing from Byakuya's tone, whatever topic Renji had to offer him would hardly cut any ice.

"Soi Fon-san." Renji said hastily.

That seemed to have caught Byakuya's undivided attention. He stepped a little forward into the light, as if it would help shed a clearer light onto whatever Renji had to say.

"I had it on good source that she's dating somebody else. I mean, don't get me wrong, I wouldn't go through any lengths to slander someone so, you know…high, scrupulous, with the strongest moral stand. I was just saying, maybe you should stop seeing her already. It's not only NOT good for the team, but for you, too; and who knows, for her. God knows she's as indispensable to her team as you are to yours." Renji was stuttering, hardly stopping.

Ichigo stood in disbelief, ashen white. _You just gave away your last bargaining chip, Renji. You are so dead. _"Renji, you hypocrite, that's just lame." He managed to say sideways, through gritted teeth. Jealousy has no actual color but looking at Renji, Ichigo was sure that it bore the shade of green.

"Ichigo, shut up. We all know that Soi Fon's just horsing around with my captain here. You've heard what—"

"And what, pray tell, is your evidence for this accusation?" Byakuya said coolly. Ichigo was offset by the sternness of his tone, but Renji seemed hardly swayed to the other direction.

"Someone I know and trust saw her out with somebody else several times. Apparently, Soi Fon likes going out at night with this other person, man, soul. It seems that she's leading a double life…maybe even a triple life." Renji went on. By this time, Ichigo was just wishing to disappear and if that would prove too hard, to be excused from the law of physics and fly far away from here, from the embarrassment Renji was causing himself. And since he couldn't do either of that, he started whistling, pretending to check out his surroundings as though he couldn't hear, or didn't want to hear, the conversations between captain and sub-captain.

"Did your informant say when exactly these 'dates' took place?" Byakuya asked lazily though it was useless to appear so; he always was the kind of person who didn't need to speak to hold a point.

"Starting this week, uhm, on Monday night, Tuesday night, Thursday night and yesterday, which is Friday night. So that's like four times this week and to think that it's only Saturday! Captain, how does she ever manage to sneak time with you?"

"You tell me, Abarai." Byakuya said in mock wonder. "And did your reliable source mention the name of the person she was allegedly with those four nights?"

"I have good reason to believe that it's her vice captain. Marechiyo Ōmaedathe Fat-So."

"Interesting." Byakuya said. Ichigo could easily spy the ironic look on his face; after all, it isn't like Byakuya to offer compliments to anything. In fact, he was the sort of person who'd only share his thoughts to show disapproval. "You know what's so weird about all this, Abarai?"

"What?"

"That on the nights of those dates, I was in fact with her. And if my memory serves, Omaeda wasn't even within twenty yard radius from us. Soi-kun would've impressed me more if I learn that she could manage to be with two different persons at a time."

"But how…?" Renji mumbled, surprised. Ichigo could hardly look at both and words that sounded like 'Told you so,' could be traced from his lips.

"It's easy," Byakuya said. He was smiling the way he did when things went his way. "Your source is far from reliable and must've mistaken me, of all people, for Omaeda. Though, of course, it doesn't make sense to imply that Omaeda and I look alike. Maybe your source is just blind, or has extremely poor eyesight, or just simply an idiot."

It was Ichigo who spoke, "Told you that brat's stupid!" he sniggered in time with Renji's crestfallen moan.

"Abarai, I thought you could do a lot better than to subscribe to hearsay. Turns out I was giving you more credit than you deserve." Byakuya flicked his eyes. "I entrusted you with certain duties I was stupid enough to believe you'd perform. Now, after this, what do you suggest you do to regain my trust?"

"Captain… it won't happen again." Renji said quietly. There was just no rebuttal, not when an irritated Byakuya was the one who should receive it.

"And I assume you would ask this source of yours to stop following Soi Fon-san and I?"

"Yes, captain." Renji mumbled in an almost incoherent undertone. He looked close to crying at the enormity of his mistake.

"Good enough, then. Good day to you, gentlemen." With that, Byakuya closed the door.

"Is it just me or did he sound sarcastic?" Ichigo said once he was sure Byakuya had gone.

"…"

"Are you alright, Renji?" Ichigo said, unable to determine what kind of look Renji was projecting; it seemed halfway going crazy and halfway dead.

"Of course not. How can I be alright after that? Do you really expect me to feel the same after that display, that huge blunder?"

"I was just asking. Geez, like this isn't all your fault; like, I didn't warn you beforehand."

Renji was silent for a brief while. "I really hate that bitch!" He yelped.

"What bitch?"

"Soi Fon. I'm going to ruin her, you just watch me."

"Well, I guess, if you do that, you're gonna have more than just your captain to worry about."

"I hate her." Renji said impassively, not catching a word of what Ichigo was saying.

"Yeah, Renji. That would make a big difference, hating her. And besides, like, you _can _really do that." Ichigo muttered. The sarcasm in his tone was hard to miss.

"And what do you mean by that?"

"Nothing, except that she isn't designated as a captain for nothing and that she'd easily trump you, in more ways than one."

Both fell silent. Maybe they didn't speak for seconds, minutes, several more minutes; maybe there wasn't anything more to say, as there really was nothing in the form of real expectation in Renji's case.

"You're in love with Byakuya, huh?"

"I don't know what you're saying." Renji said. He was waving a hand at Ichigo in a gesture of defiance.

"It's not like you made any effort to cover it up. One doesn't have to be smart to figure it out. You were so fucking obvious back there. Like, Renji, so fucking obvious. You just stood there, making it so clear that you're crazy in love with him just by simply being speechless in front of him. Whatever happened to subtlety? The only thing that was missing was a banner that says, 'I LOVE YOU, BYAKUYA, MY CAPTAIN, LOVE R3NJ!'"

Renji hesitated, squinting at Ichigo as he never did before. Since when did he sprout horns?

"It was a futile effort to begin with. Maybe they really are meant to be. All I can tell you with any certainty is, what Byakuya feels toward Soi Fon is way out of your hands, and so does what she feels toward him. And right now I'm pretty sure that the longer you keep that in mind, the longer you might stay sane." Ichigo said. He stared at Renji whose typical black pupils were dilating in frustration, sadness, surrender and many things that are hard to name. It was all very weird, coming from Renji, who, as far as Ichigo was aware, was very proud.

"Know what? I don't wanna talk about it anymore. Let's just train." Renji, suddenly subdued and docile, said; there was a forced energy in his voice. Ichigo paused for a while. He could almost feel Renji's failure and being in close proximity with the red-head further intensified his empathy. Ichigo knew what he was going through. He knew that he was suffering in much the same way. If only Renji would open his eyes, bother to look deeper into Ichigo's personality, into why Ichigo kept on sticking up for him, he'd see what the orange-head was struggling to conceal but didn't want to anymore; he'd see how in love Ichigo really was with Renji himself.

TBC

N/A: Everyone, thanks for reading. Next chapter coming right up, okay?


	4. Chapter 4

Three of Hearts

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach characters. I ain't that lucky or much of a genius.

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**Chapter IV: ****What Makes Me Tick**

"Yachiru, if you know what's good for you you'd shut your trap. You just put me in the worst possible humiliation a man can suffer from. I can't believe you even have half the guts to face me after what you put me through." Renji said weakly, plagued by some kind of annoyance he began feeling very deeply.

"But I don't know what you're saying, tattoo-face."

"With all due respect, why am I not surprised? Like, you really can manage to remember anything."

"I only tell you truths, absolute truths. I promise."

"You're telling the wrong truths. You're supplying me nothing more than ridiculous cock-and-bulls. And for the record, the last time I checked, fifty-six out of the fifty-seven times you tried to tip me off, I ended up wanting to die."

"I don't want you to die, tattoo-face."

"I don't want me to die either. But you're just pushing me."

"I'm not!"

"Yachiru, come over here. Yeah, get closer. Yeah, that's it; don't move. Are you even partially sure you saw what you thought you saw?"

"I'm not sure, tattoo-face; I don't know what you're talking about."

Renji heaved a tired, last-ditch, dismissive sigh. "Get out of my sight and come back when you're sure or when you've grown ten feet taller."

"Mmmh, I must've done something horrible to affect you like this."

"You've done something irrevocably, unthinkably, unjustifiably horrible. You've done something bad on a giant scale even Aizen is not capable of."

"But I told you; I don't know what you're saying. I haven't talked to you in fifteen days."

"You just talked to me two days ago. You told me Soi Fon was going out with Omaeda---"

"But I don't remember making any statement to that effect---"

"You even swore on a stack of Bibles that you saw them holding hands with your naked eyes--"

"When did that hap--"

"Maybe you were just trying to get me busted. Who knows--"

"I don't know how to get anyone busted--"

"Why don't you just confess that you meant to make a fool out of me so you can fool me longer with your--"

"Wait, can I finish? Can I finish what I'm saying?" Yachiru pled in raised pitch. The sound she made closely resembled a fork scratching on tin.

Renji darted an irritated, at-the-end-of-my-patience look at her. He glowered, "Okay, what?"

Yachiru paused as if to retrieve a long-lost train of thought from the end of a mile-deep pit, "Okay, I'm finished."

Renji unleashed another tired, tired sigh. He'd been grieving over what had been over and over again established, that Byakuya's heart was now somebody else's property. The least he needed was a brat tugging at the last straw.

"Yachiru,"

"Yes, tattoo-face?"

"I'm actually running a high fever. And do you know what happens to me when I'm sick?"

"What?"

"I throw people out the window." Renji zapped his hand on the desk for a clear demonstration. "Like that."

"Will you throw me out of the window?"

"I might," Renji said slowly. He was indeed sick with fever and, might we add, revulsion. He was sure he had never been in worse shape in half a century.

"So is that why you've been incessantly on edge?" it wasn't Yachiru who spoke; Ichigo just alighted on the picture to join the one-sidedly heated conversation. He squeezed himself beside Yachiru, who almost scowled. "You can't capture Byakuya's affection, you can't catch his attention, you can't earn his respect and trust. So far all you've managed to catch is a cold." Ichigo was counting with his fingers. "What did I tell you about sobbing in the rain?"

"I wasn't sobbing, Ichigo." Renji protested and stifled a sneeze.

"And Byakuya doesn't visit you either. I doubt if he ever noticed that you've been gone."

"Of course he knows. You're just barking mad. Anyway, did you come here to make me feel worse?"

"No. That would be too boring; you're down enough in mud anyway." Ichigo stated proudly as though it capped the matter at hand.

"Then why are you even here, gloating like that?"

"I'm doing you the biggest favor you can ever receive and you don't even realize it." Ichigo grinned. "I'm sympathizing with you."

"Me too! I sympathize with you, tattoo-face!" Yachiru piped up.

"You do? Next time you do, try to be more of a little help to me."

"I AM trying to help you."

"I'd rather not take the chance." Renji frowned and faced Ichigo. "I'm a wreck, ain't I?"

"A little worse than that, I'd venture. But it's not the end of a line. Who knows what tomorrow brings?" Ichigo replied heartily.

Renji pondered for a second or two. "Will you promise that everything's gonna be fine?"

"Mmmh, I promise that _maybe,_ everything's gonna be fine."

"That's pretty…safe, I guess. Anyway, do you happen to bring the sweets with you?"

"Oh yeah, yeah. Here." Ichigo handed out a transparent bag of sweets to Renji. Inside were round little candies of attractive colors. "I can't imagine any purpose it would serve you under the circumstances. Studies show that sweets can actually worsen cold and trigger sore throat…"

"This is going to be a major relief to me, trust me." Renji eyed the package with delight; Yachiru with inexplicable, higher-level, speechless but open-mouthed kind of drooling joy. Renji went on, "I don't have much strength with me now; if you mind, I'd like you to throw these out of the window as hard as you can."

Ichigo looked at him quizzically. "You know, I just spent considerable amount of money on those. I thought I might remind you."

"I know. Just do it. I want it as far away from me as possible." Renji said. He was staring at Yachiru with a meaningful gaze.

"Alright. This had better be good or…" Becoming convinced, Ichigo rigorously pitched the bag out of the window as it shot through the air like a modern space craft. Almost simultaneously, Yachiru followed suit, if not in a higher speed. In a fillip, she and the bag of sweets were gone, probably reunited somewhere far away.

"Okay, Ichigo, please lock that window for me." Renji said in a livelier tone.

--

Ordinarily, Shuuhei wouldn't bother to do things that wouldn't, in any way, be personally beneficial to him. This day, however, he broke away from that pattern. For a change.

Having inconvertibly failed to shoot through the ranks of lieutenancy, he firmly made up his mind to do everything in his power to preserve in him the knowledge, ability and the will of a Shinigami vice-captain. Because in that thought lived still his ambitions.

It was a purple night and the stars were shining gently. Shuuhei was again doing overtime work at Soi Fon's office. Lately the paperwork had piled up high what with the recent consecutive urgencies requiring the divisions' captains' presence. As a result, Soi Fon hardly had time to attend to the files and reports. Shuuhei volunteered to fill in for her and since the vice captain, the glutton Omaeda, was admittedly purposeless in matters like this, there was no obstacle.

He was halfway through re-reading and rectifying mistakes on folder number seven when he heard shuffles of feet coming from below, outside the window. In a while, low murmurs fluttered in the air, completing the scenario of a clandestine tryst. Shuuhei passively, just half curious about who these people were. Surely, it's too late for a night stroll? He peered through the window and realized that only a dim light was there to help him through and where an efficient light shone, the ones who allegedly made the small noise seemed loath to inch nearer. Nonetheless he made out two blunt, miniature shadows in the dark. They were standing considerably—or else liberally, depending on one's perspectives-- close to each other. The shorter figure was nodding her or his head as the tall one placed a hand on her/his shoulder. One part of Shuuhei's brain identified them as lovers; one part simply didn't care. He was about to turn away when both stepped into the light.

It was Kuchiki Byakuya and Soi Fon. This is the part when Shuuhei stopped not to care. It seemed that neither was aware that they were being watched. In fact, for so long as they stood close to each other, they seemed pay no attention to exactly nothing in their surrounding, as though they were in a phase of blissful equilibrium.

Shuuhei marked the sudden heaviness in his chest, a sort of stabbing pain wending its way to his head. Way down deep, there was something more he couldn't quite describe, yet. He returned to the papers, not wanting to feed his mind further with what he just witnessed, as he hypnotically ruminated on the fact that luck wasn't on his side, and hope stood even farther away. Far off the distance, the moon drowned in shadows and eclipsed what little light it reflected. It was, no mistake, an eventual sign of an eventual heartache.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

**Three of Hearts **

Disclaimer: Well, you've got to admit, the brilliance that is Bleach's characters can never be a property of someone like me.**  
**

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**Chapter V: ****The Long Lonely Road to Martyrdom **

Abarai Renji is the worst match-maker in the world and he knows it, but doesn't quite accept it. His match-making talent, or lack thereof, extends to far-fetched, badly-in-need-of-honing pairings such as Zaraki and Matsumoto; Hitsugaya and himself; cat Yoruichi and Kon; Soi Fon and—he steadfastly insists-- the tasteless wooden column at the Third Divisions' headquarters' main entrance; Gin and some nameless pig in Rokongai district; Aizen and his army of Arancars; Maki-maki and Captain Ukitake; Ichigo and Commander Yamamoto: Urahara and Ikkaku; Yumichika and Ganju; Rukia and Orihime; Kira and whoever happens to be near; and of course, himself and Kuchiki… the captain Kuchiki. And his being a gossip whore doesn't quite help in endowing him with more common sense either. If anything, it twists his logic round and round until it's reduced to sheer absence.

When Shuuhei ambushed him, roughly a day ago, the former vice-captain was rarely aware that Renji is the last person/soul/whatever on Earth to become a successful match-maker, even if you give him gazillion years. But it must be mentioned with emphasis that he had no one else to run to, again.

"What's your problem, mate?" Renji finally asked Shuuhei after marking the sullenness in both his tones and actions.

"Something big and emotional, but nothing worse than yours which is a product of emotional and psychological and intellectual failures all rolled in to one. Now don't shoot off your mouth, Renji. I happen to be serious."

Renji give him a consoling smile which looks more like a mocking grin. Shuuhei hesitated for a moment, stepped forward and stepped back again, rocked back and forth, shook his head and inevitably detested himself for what he misconstrued as his lack of will.

"This is going to be extremely personal. Uhm, so I don't want you letting anybody in on this."

It wasn't that he didn't trust Renji on this topic---it was a common knowledge that anyone who trusted Renji was either insane, dying, clinically in need of attention, verging on collapse, et cetera—it was that, this was just way too damn confidential.

So he spoke, halting along the way, even exaggeratedly re-enacting some scenes that weren't necessary to prove a point. He told his story, heart-wrenching, with all his heart could bear, but he never named the objects of his love and what it constantly pained him to call jealousy. He was in love, but his heart didn't rejoice in being so.

"It's alright, Shuuhei. Being broken-hearted is the new black." Renji sounded sympathetic for a while until, "Hey, have you been hanging out a lot with Kira lately? You'd think something's really in full flower with him and Ikkaku. I bet he's still bitter over Gin's treachery and finding solace in anyone he comes near to. Wait till he wakes up; I bet he's gonna ask me to Bankai himself!" Renji chattered.

Shuuhei clasped his face. Renji was again being the motor-mouth that he was and exercising in full force his gossip whore side. "Renji, Kira is NOT gay. And besides, what business is it of yours if he was gay?"

"A damn lot. You know I have to keep tabs on the goings-on around the Soul Society, otherwise no one would do it. And I can bet everything I have that Kira is half-gay." Renji said with a fresh flavor of pride and conviction.

"Are you even getting paid for this?"

"Knowing the story _gets_ me paid. It's enough. And it's fun. There's nothing like getting fun and paid."

"Whatever." Shuuhei sighed. "Anyway, I thought you could somewhat perhaps do something about my situation what with your claims of being a real authority on love."

"What claims? They're a fact." Renji spat.

"If they're a fact, what do you suggest I do? Live insecurely? What?"

"Easy. What you need is a good date."

"Huh?"

"Something that'd keep your mind off from these people and since you wouldn't tell me who she/he is, I'd rather do a hit-or-miss."

"What do you mean by that?"

"You don't expect me to figure out what your type is on my own, right? Without a fucking clue? So unless you tell me now who you're in love with, I wouldn't know what your type is."

Shuuhei frowned. "Never mind. I'd rather look for a date without anyone's help." he said dismissively.

"Whoa. What do you think you're doing? You may be good in combat, but you're nearly useless in a social situation. So, basically, your alternative is to remain a loser. Ergo, I suggest you ask for my help."

"I'm not gonna tell you who she is." Shuuhei said firmly.

"So it's a she? It's not another guy?"

"Of course, Renji! Goddamnit! Do I look like someone who likes to, argh!" Shuuhei almost yelled in spurting rage.

"Geez, easy." Renji said defensively. "So you wouldn't tell me who she is…"

"You're goddamn right I won't."

"So that means I'm gonna have to find another girl. That means…Yeah! I got it! Oh, Shuuhei, take a hint; you're gonna like her." Renji was being feverish, eyes twinkling with passion, transforming into a complete bimbo. "She's so cute. You two are so gonna get along. First up, she's very entertaining and lively. Second, she's not your typical girl-next-door, but in our case it's girl-next-squad. Third, she's damn cool. She's a lieutenant, like us! I mean, like me."

"Okay… that should be interesting. But keep in mind that what's good enough for you may not be good enough for me." Shuuhei said, his mind reeling off from Ise through Matsumoto. "Uhm, any other clue?"

"Rule out all the black-haired ones."

"Oh." Shuuhei said. He was a little disappointed that Ise and Nemu had to be counted out. So that only leaves two, namely Matsumoto and that medic white-haired lieutenant from the Fourth Division, who by the way isn't bad. He'd take his chances on Matsumoto though.

"Rest assured, Shuuhei. Nobody whoever comes to me regrets it afterward." Renji stated, trembling with glee.

"On the contrary---"

"Just leave it to me. I've got this sure-fire plan people like you need and, now that step one is over, the rest should be easy. I swear you got a pleasant surprise coming to you. I'll see you later!" Renji hopped off in good humor.

Alone, Shuuhei wondered if this was the right thing to do.

--

Later that day.

Ichigo was an imperfect human being. If you punched him, wouldn't he be in pain? If you stabbed him, wouldn't he bleed? If you broke his heart, wouldn't he go right to pieces? This, exactly, is what he wanted Renji to know.

After countless quantities of hesitations, head ache, arbitrary muscle pains and inclement stress, Ichigo made up his mind to approach Renji. He simply didn't know how to cope with it any longer, simply no longer able to keep up with the pretense that he didn't care about whatever there was between Renji and Byakuya just so he could conceal the fact that he really did. And the longer Renji stayed concerned about Byakuya, the hazier things appear in the horizon for the orange-head. It was precisely this thought that would never permit himself to think.

He found his friend at the balcony, smoking in what looked like blissful abandon and satisfied grin, which to him was like watching a moron. The night was rather young and streaked with stars in all sizes and heights of brilliance. The clouds were ebbing away in slow motion to give way to the moon. The wind was gentle, seeming alive and aware with every move it made. Ichigo faked a throat-clearing cough.

"Ichigo?"

"Hmm." Ichigo stepped closer to Renji.

"You look… drawn out. Got problems?" Renji asked, looking at him from toe to orange-dyed head, sounding concerned. But the clueless look on his face almost stung Ichigo.

Blood thrummed the orange-head's temples. Heart-beat quickening, eyes narrowing, he said, "I thought I'd like to talk to you."

"Sure. Why don't you sit over here?" Renji pointed at the space beside him. The smile on his face lingered. "What is it?"

"Nothing. I just want to be near—I mean—_here_, yeah that's it. I want to watch the skies."

"Feeling sentimental? I think I know just what you need."

"Really?"

"Yeah. At times like these, tough times I mean---"

"I haven't even said anything, Renji."

"I know! But looking at you, I can pretty much tell what it is; heartache." Renji said informatively. He was frantic.

"…"

"Right on!"

"Yeah, right on." Ichigo repeated glumly as he cast dark, sidelong glance at his friend's direction.

"Well…Ichigo, mate, nobody's trying to pressure you but, well, I think it's time you get yourself a love-life."

"Yeah, I thought I should brace myself for that sort of reality." Ichigo said with a bit of sarcasm. Lately, this widely diverted topic about romance had seemed to be the stuff of his daily conversation with Renji.

"Why don't we get worked out on this?" Renji said, grinning from both ears. It only made Ichigo feel more restless, for he was tired and nearly at the end of his tether. "Come on, Ichigo. There's nothing to lose. There's plenty--"

"Renji, I don't need you to pair me up with somebody else. The thing is--"

"The thing is, you're desperate for love, frustrated by what you see and simply becoming sullen by turns. I can't stand seeing a friend in need, you should know that."

"I would've been happier if you were able to see things more clearly." Ichigo muttered gravely. He looked far beyond serious, almost beyond repair.

"…" Renji was silent, unable to hatch an idea. "I…well, maybe…"

"It's alright, Renji. If you can't help me, I don't suppose anyone else can." Ichigo cocked his head and stood up. He wanted so much to be in charge of his feelings, if he couldn't conquer it thoroughly; but as time stretched on, the less it seemed that he'd ever straighten things up with this friend slash secret love of his. "I had better go." He said solemnly.

"But if you need me, I'll be right here!" Renji kept on blabbing after Ichigo, who had by then started striding away from him. "There's Kira, with whom you look absolutely good! There's, oh, there's Ikkaku and there's a very good chance that he's single and not dating, not unlike yourself…"

Renji babbled on against the retreating figure of Ichigo, who never looked back and whose loving heart, it seemed, would never be revealed. At least not for so long as Renji remained stubbornly clueless. With a fresh flavor of frustration Ichigo sighed for the nth time that day.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter VI: Fortune Faded**

There are men who are born unfortunate. There are men who achieve misfortune in life. There are men who get misfortune thrust upon them. Hisagi Shuuhei is all three. He has everything he needs and wants except a good life. No matter how hard he works his way up away from bad luck, his story leaps, not just to open loopholes, but to welcome disappointment, which is something so personally familiar to him. At this point, he has no idea what's happening to him, when it's going to stop and if it's ever going to stop, in what manner, exactly? For all he'd ever know, he shouldn't be at the mercy of the person, soul, whatever, in front of him.

"Shu-chan, would you like another order of ramen? I am so enjoying this night. You are so cuuute." All three feet and some odd inches of Kusajishi Yahciru squeaks, pink radiance glowing ever more obvious. She knows Shuuhei has appeal and though she far from knows what appeal is, she nonetheless knows Shuuhei has it. Immediately around her are plates after plates of neatly finished dishes.

Shuuhei releases a half gasp. Just how did he land a date with a toddler, who also happens to badly need an awful lot of supervision? And since when has a date become synonymous to baby-sitting? All he knows is that, at Renji's insistence and against his better judgment, he decided to be exactly where he is now. Out of mere, shallow desperation.

"You're so quiet. I like quiet men. I fall in love with quiet men." Yachiru rambles in the same carefree, child-like manner. Shuuhei doubts if she even knows the meaning of 'in' and 'love', still less the entire phrase. "Shuu-chan, can we get another round of ramen?"

"Do as you please, then." Shuuhei sighs. Of all stupid places to be in, he has to be here, in a famous noodle restaurant where attendance is so ever punctual. People have long since begun darting incurious look at their direction, probably indulging their dirty minds on the scene; he, a grown man, out with what must've been in real world called a pre-schooler. You can't wholly blame these people; the sight is really way off the beaten path.

"Yosh!" Yachiru squeals in delight. In almost no time, she begins wolfing down the great bowl of soup and noodles. Shuuhei only partakes in moderation. His mind is thoroughly elsewhere, particularly along the hedge where he could murder Abarai Renji with both of his bare hands.

He finally, hastily stretches up, makes up his mind not to waste any time in exacting revenge on Renji and doesn't even bother to bid his date farewell.

"Shuu-chan, where are you going now?"

"Leaving." He replies curtly. _God, just let this end now and I swear, I swear I'd beg nothing more from life. _

"But this is such a romantic dinner! Look, the candle-lights are so beautiful." Yachiru points at the small fire in the middle of the table.

"Those aren't candle-lights; that's actually what they call a _stove_." Shuuhei answers despondently. He forgot, but he also knows everything about romance except how to enjoy it.

"Yeah, but you shouldn't go so early. I'm having so much fun."

"I'm not." Shuuhei responds. Forty-five insurmountable minutes with Yachiru is more than enough to wipe him clean out of his wits. Far across the room, he hears somebody shamelessly mouth out the word, 'pedophile'. Shuuhei casts his eyes to the voice's origin and is enraptured to discover that the group is composed of four men in all kinds of ugly faces. Beating them up sure is not worth his time. Plus, if he's ever attempting to rescue himself from the humiliation he's currently sinking in, it sure wouldn't be a good idea to start by commencing a royal melee in this kind of place.

With that in mind, he pitches himself to the sidewalks where he believes he could get enough peace of mind. He notices that the drop in the temperature has completely gone to the bottom and that the wind is enough to turn him into ice. He huddles himself closer as he braves the cobbled steps. In a short while, he could feel something too light for a human being but too heavy for an excess baggage clinging onto his left shoulder.

"Shuu-chan, you left me. You're so mean."

"Yachiru, I really have to go now." _Wow, she sure is speedy._

"Let me go with you, then." Yachiru begs. "I thought you were a gentleman. How could you leave your date alone and not walk her home and feel no remorse?"

"You're not my date. You're my bad luck waiting to happen. And besides, you don't have a home."

Yachiru ignores Shuuhei's attempt at insult or else, she simply doesn't understand its magnitude. "What does that 69 mean, on your cheek?"

"It's the number of people, souls and monsters I've killed and if you're not too careful, it can become 70 right at this moment." Shuuhei almost snarls, fumes of smoke sniping out of his pores. If he could only get his hands on Renji's throat.

"Uhm, you're really good. I wonder how many I've killed."

They reach the doorstep of a shabby unit of a sprawling apartment. Judging by the fluorescent light coming out from the window, and the hearty boisterous noise inside, the occupants are very much awake and having what must've been a solid good time. Shuuhei knocks on the door, banging his fist on the wood as hard as he could. Renji, who's in a traditional Japanese kimono, opens it, at which instant Yachiru yells jubilantly. She's mightily elated to see Renji, as usual. Shuuhei, on the other hand, eager to get rid of her irremovable presence, hooks her by the collar with his right hand and pushes her forward to Renji.

"I think I should give this back to you." Shuuhei says as he yanks Yachiru to Renji. _Boy, are you son of a bitch in for it. _

"Date's over, sempai? How did it go? Seems a little quick to me." Renji says, all-smiles. He turns to Yachiru who has just landed softly on the floor, "Did you have fun, Yachiru-chan?"

"Only a little fun. Shuu-chan here is really good at sulking." She says and pouts her lips like a dissatisfied child would.

"Aw, Shuuhei, how can you do that to our little princess?" Renji says good-heartedly but not without a meaningful ear-to-ear grin.

Shuuhei shakes his head and pulls closer to Renji, an urge to knock Renji flat on his ass overflowing in him. His eyes flash an ominous frown. "Renji, you are one stroke of genius. You know exactly where to hit my soft spot and right at this moment, I just want to return the favor. I just can't think of anything else but that."

"Really? In that event, let's call on the drinks!" Renji snickered.

"No, you stay here, you wise-cracking jerk." Shuuhei's tone has taken a turn for the venomous. "Just what was that all about? What were you trying to pull on me, you maniac?"

"Me? I was just---come on, Shuuhei, you know me; it's natural for me to lend a helping hand to anyone who needs it. And at that time, you needed a really good date."

"Good date my ass. You know what's worse? You actually think that _this_ is the best idea you've come up with. Why didn't you just let somebody latch on the chance or better yet, why didn't_ you_ take her out? I surely didn't need it." Shuuhei blares.

"How many times do you have to be told? You're the one who needs comfort of this kind, not me."

"Sometimes you're being too stupid for your own good." Shuuhei smiles bitterly. "Tell me, is this really your idea of a hot night? Setting up lousy, sentenced-to-fail dates and making people look like they're sick in the head or pedophiles?"

"I wouldn't know about that. And please, don't put that face on. Just what have I done to deserve this sort of treatment? I gave you a date; you should by all means be thankful."

"Thankful, huh? Let me tell you then that I can give you ten reasons for every one you could give why I should be grateful to you. You know that better than I do."

"So what's really wrong?"

"You, you are what's wrong, you scheming liar." Shuuhei spits.

"I wasn't lying; I did tell you your date would be really cute and strictly not stereotypical. And no one's cuter than Yachiru-chan here…just a little like a diamond in the rough. At any rate, I'm sure she's going to be hot when she grows older." Renji argues, to which Yachiru replies, "I second the motion!".

"Correction:_ if_ she grows older and taller. And you _do_ lie; you're guilty of committing the lie of omission. One would've thought you meant 'cute' in another way, not in this sickening, retarded, totally disgusting way!" Shuuhei screeches which seems to have caused the others to snap to attention. In a few seconds, both Ikkaku Madarame and Yumichika Ayasegawa appear behind Renji. It turns out that all three were shooting alcohol before all this took place. Shuuhei watches them with a sinking heart; the least thing he needs now is the supporting cast.

"Oooh, I didn't know Hisagi was invited at our little party and…lieutenant, what are you doing here? It's kind of late." Ikkaku forces a smile upon the sight of Yachiru.

"It's good that you asked, cue-ball. Shuuhei and I just went out on a date!" Yachiru says, seeming really pleased to announce her good fortune of having Shuuhei for a date.

Promptly, there flows a strained silence. Each and every person in the vicinity, other than Yachiru who is now in a state of unquestionable bliss, seems determined not to break the thick silence. It was the case until Ikkaku starts guffawing in a most ungainly manner.

"I never would've thought. Gosh, a little while ago I could've said that wasn't exactly what I had in mind. I thought it was some exclusive kind of deputy-captain thing, then I remembered, Shuuhei, that you're _not_ vice-captain anymore. So what else could it be but a good ole romantic date? Ha ha ha ha!"

Shuuhei stands livid with anger and makes no effort to hide this. "Will you keep it down, egg-head?" he says through gritted teeth.

"Let him snigger; it's better than to have him talk." Yumichika interrupts, white teeth shining like polished ivory. "Anyway, Shuuhei, I can't help but to think that what you've done is disgusting, gross and just perverted. Seriously, I'm sick to my soul."

"And what have I done, you pimped-up wuss?"

"Taking an interest in our vice captain. Not only is she incompetent when it comes to combat, and knows nothing about directions, but she's also a glutton! It's a major turn-off, having a girl eat like a mammoth in front of you." Yumichika says excitedly.

"I agree, I agree. Vice-captain is clueless about table manners as well." Ikkaku pipes up, nodding feverishly.

Shuuhei starts, "That I noticed, but the point is—"

"Well, I guess she's just as good as any other—"

"Or as bad as any other. You see, Shuuhei, our vice captain is seriously deranged and doesn't like to be offended, which, of course, makes her an unlikely candidate for a good conversation and hence a bad date. So I conclude that she must really be a bad date and anyone who's got the balls to like her has bad taste and that you had a total bad time. But even so, did you _kiss_ her?" Yumichika giggles.

"What kind of crazy question is that? If you guys know enough to be ashamed of yourselves, you wouldn't even start running filthy thoughts like that in your head." Shuuhei grunts. How can they imagine something so incalculably gross? He, kiss Yachiru? Just what is happening to this sad, sad world?

"I'm glad that you didn't because otherwise, we would've made you a real laughingstock around here. Vice-captain is seriously not a person to kiss and if anyone kisses her, I'm sure that person's going to regret it in no time, huge time. I'm —"

Yumichika fails to finish whatever it is he was going to say. A sudden din erupts, causing him to scream like a little girl. Yachiru, taking advantage of her feather weight and blithe, poised to assault, mounts on top of Yumichika's head and begins pecking it with all the barbarity of a wild animal. Shuuhei watches the spectacle unfold with mixed emotions.

"Vice-captain, get off! My hair!" Yumichika is yelling in pain, horror and panic. An unsavory amount of drool starts dripping down the shiny black sheet that is Yumichika's hair. Ikkaku doubles up on the floor, laughing.

"Alright, that's enough, Yachiru-chan. Yumichika was only joking." Renji competently manages to wrench Yachiru free of the violated Yumichika. "Am I right, Yumichika? You were only joking, right?"

"Yeah, I was." Yumichika replies faintly and immediately recoils from Yachiru to straighten his hair in a safe distance. Yachiru blows loud raspberries.

Once calm returns, Shuuhei turns to Renji.

"So, let's settle the score, shall we?"

"What now?"

"Nothing," Shuuhei smiles shrewdly. "Except that there's a huge possibility that I owe you this dignity-loss." He says, starts cracking his knuckles and maniacally eyes Renji's bare jaw.

The last thing that Renji would remember was stars circling around his head.

TBC


End file.
